Batman still has some fight left in him

Holy box office Batman! Have you seen those returns? Yes, The Batman has proved that Bruce Wayne’s caped alter ego can still draw people into cinemas at the speed of a Gotham City crowd in flight from the Joker’s latest outrage. The film had to overcome a prohibitive three-hour run time and a 15 certificate in the UK, with the exception of only Belfast where a “soft” 15A allows them to see it accompanied by an adult. But despite these challenges, the film racked up the third-highest UK opening since the pandemic, with £13.5m banked before iMax screenings were factored in.

Globally, it has zoomed past its $180m-$200m budget in a matter of days and was approaching a half billion in ticket sales at the time of writing. That’s the Batmobile in full flight. It sends a message to studios too. There is still value in a cinema release.

Warner Bros had decided not to offer the movie up for simultaneous streaming on its HBO Max channel, as it had done with a string of previous high-profile releases including the recent Matrix: Resurrections. It is also a demonstration of the enduring power of the franchise – or rather the character.

The Batman is the caped crusader’s third separate iteration in a decade, the fourth (arguably the fifth), in two. Yet, there has been no obvious sign of bat-fatigue among the cinema-going public. So long as the film is of sufficient quality.

The critics, increasingly wary of superhero flicks, and of three-hour epics, mostly agreed that it is. The Mat Reeves directed outing boasts an 86 per cent “fresh” rating on Rotten Tomatoes and a 72 – indicating “generally favourable reviews” – on Metacritic’s 0 to 100 scale.

open image in gallery

The achievement is particularly impressive given the long shadow cast over the franchise by The Dark Knight, the second of Christopher Nolan’s bat-trilogy. The Dark Knight hasn’t just become the standard by which all subsequent bat-films have been judged. It stands as one of the greatest comic book/graphic novel adaptations of all time.

Critically lauded upon its release, it broke records for Oscar nominations for a comic book movie, netting eight and winning two. Those gongs included a posthumous Best Supporting Actor award for the late Heath Ledger, which was the first “above the line” non-technical win for a superhero movie. The film was also a mainstay of those ubiquitous end of year, decade, and all-time lists beloved by critics and moviegoers alike. It is not your average superhero flick.

When Nolan took the franchise on, it was in need of a shot in the arm. After Tim Burton’s celebrated brace of films between 1989 and 1992, featuring a decidedly gothic take on the franchise, set in a grim and forbidding steampunk-styled Gotham, the downward slide of the Caped Crusader was rapid.

The Joel Shumacher-helmed follow-up to Burton’s pair of films, Batman Forever, in 1995, made the city less forbidding, introduced Val Kilmer as the bat, and added Chris O’Donnell as a bratty Robin, eliciting a great big meh. About all that can be said for it is that it was better than the subsequent Batman & Robin, with George Clooney in the lead role and the satircal Razzie Awards taking a serious interest eliciting 11 nominations and one win in a year, which also featured Speed 2: Cruise Control and Kevin Costner’s The Postman among its turkeys.

Nolan started his trilogy with Batman Begins, which gave the character his first traditional origin story despite a cinematic history dating back to Adam West’s camp sixties classic, a spin-off from the wildly popular TV show.

These are usually de rigueur but the Bat – who lacks any meaningful superpowers beyond being rich – has ever been the iconoclast. Perhaps it is because the character is sufficiently ingrained in pop culture that it was hardly essential. Perhaps it is because there were no powers to be explained. Regardless, Burton’s decision to interweave elements of the character’s beginnings with his first outing, rather than to make the film about the beginning, worked

Nolan’s origin story in Batman Begins represented a fine start to his association with the character, providing a new take on the Bat’s legend. But it was with The Dark Knight, the sequel, that the director really hit his stride. Rarely, for a sequel, it is the superior film.

open image in gallery

It starts with a jolt of kinetic energy, a shot from a window, jumping straight into a violent heist at what we soon learn is a mafia-controlled bank. As each phase is complete, the robber responsible is shot by one or another of their comrades, culminating in a rare moment of (dark) humour, concerning who’s supposed to shoot the Bus Driver. It is, of course, Ledger’s Joker.

Nolan’s film shifts restlessly between genres. From heist gone wrong, or right, the Joker really doesn’t care as long as chaos is sown, we move into crime/mob movie territory as the lords of misrule sit down to discuss what to do about the mysterious new kid in town.

In contrast to Burton’s controversial flashbacks involving Jack Nicholson’s Joker in Batman’s beginnings, Ledger emerges like a cosmic force from out of Gotham’s corrupt underbelly. There is no origin given for him and it is better that way.

There is a touch of gadget-heavy Bond about the Bat’s brief sojourn in Hong Kong, taken with the aim of kidnapping a moneyman wanted by the Bat’s allies as a witness.

It is probably unnecessary – an “if you’ve got it, spend it” moment reflective of the film’s fancy budget. But it is nonetheless accomplished with the nervous energy which suffuses through the film. So why not? At no point during its two-and-half-hour runtime does The Dark Knight feel like its overstaying its welcome. You’ll never feel the need to check your watch. The call of the bathroom has to be ignored.

That’s particularly so when the film gets to the meat; when Ledger announces his hostile takeover of organised crime in Gotham and in the process completely wrests the proceedings from his adversary.

open image in gallery

This is the Joker’s film, perhaps a far superior one to the recent, celebrated standalone take that delivered another Oscar in the form of a Best Actor nod for Joaquin Phoenix. The Joker always hogs the attention. It’s what he does best. His mere appearance in a comic is, these days, an event which guarantees extra sales.

Ledger’s Joker provides a contrast with the showy psychopath that Jack Nicholson portrayed, a larger-than-life celebrity who was after the audience’s applause before he poisoned them. Ledger’s is after attention, true, but he is indifferent to applause. He is, as Michael Caine’s Alfred states, someone who just wants to see the world burn. And he proves it when he sets light to a pile of cash.

In so doing he laughs at Gotham’s sepulchral rot, shining a light upon it and cruelly mocking the frailty and failings of his adversaries, who are presented with a series of impossible moral dilemmas. Here is another instance where The Dark Knight elevates itself into a pantheon only a very few superhero films have reached: they draw blood. This film has stakes. Batman doesn’t save his love interest here. He loses his Rachel.

After threatening to continue a campaign of murder until Batman unmasks, a transparent piece of blackmail, the Joker’s next twist is the kidnapping of Rachel and Harvey Dent, her boss, the city’s crusading district attorney, its “white knight”.

We expect that Batman will choose her. He doesn’t. He chooses Dent. She dies. Dent has half his face burned off. Everyone loses, except the viewer, who is kept in a state of tension in all subsequent encounters. Who’s next? Rachel, played by Maggie Gyllenhaal, helps to humanise a film dominated by larger-than-life characters, as does Gary Oldman’s Commissioner Gordon, in an understated role whose importance is sometimes under-rated.

open image in gallery

Even the conclusion – involving the Bat and Gordon in a morally murky compromise struck between the pair with a view to preserving the reputation of Dent and protecting the city from the truth – is on point and part of a theme. Endings are hard, especially in superhero films where they can be a little samey. This is a damn good one.

It is worth addressing one of the chief criticisms of the film: its backdrop. The external shots were filmed in Chicago. They are plain vanilla in contrast to Burton’s gloriously grandiose vision, or even Nolan’s first outing, with its grimily-futuristic monorail.

That is actually a clever touch. Gotham, is often depicted as an imaginary hellscape, a few shades grimmer than the urban decay of, say, parts of Detroit. This, and the frequent attacks on its citizenry some of the most warped bad guys in comics, begs a question: Why would any normal person want to live there? Why would any legitimate business operate there?

The Gotham of The Dark Knight, however, is a gleaming, modern skyscraper filed landscape, common to the modern American city. The contrast with the seething corruption festering beneath it is a worthy one. It offers something for the Joker to expose. Chicago’s grimy mob history makes it oh so appropriate to that task.

The Dark Knight is a neo-noir that doesn’t feel the need to make it blindingly obvious. It instead obeys the golden rule imparted to all first-year creative writing students: show, don’t tell. Let your audience work it out.

Faced with clearing that high bar – the third Nolan outing was less effective but still worthwhile – is it any wonder that the subsequent outings failed to pass muster? Featuring Ben Affleck, as part of the new DC Extended Universe, Warner’s hoped they would rival the success of the Marvel Cinematic Universe. The joke was on the studio.

The new film is another neo-noir, with another grim vision of Gotham, as perpetually rain battered hellscape. It makes use of the character’s unique virtue to writers and filmmakers alike – his malleability – to chart a course of its own unencumbered by a wider milieu.

Spiderman has had three recent movie iterations, but he’s always Spiderman. Nerdy. Sincere. Conflicted about the powers he’s gained. An avatar for the average comic book reader, the embodiment of a thrilling fantasy: what if I were to encounter the radioactive spider? Superman is Superman. Truth, justice, and the American way. The alien with godlike powers living among us. Morally pure. White bread.

open image in gallery

Batman is different. The character has the ability to be whatever a creator wants him to be to an extent that is rarely rivalled in comic books. The Batman succeeds by exploring the character’s billing as “the world’s greatest detective”, most often featured in the long-running Detective Comics title. It owes a nod to serial killer films.

It also has the most characterful Batman since Keaton. Nolan cast Christian Bale, responsible for the gravely voiced “I’m Batman”, which has become a much-mocked pop culture trope, in the role. He’s fine as the dark avenger, but it’s the villains who stand out. This isn’t a problem. Superhero films are at their best when their villains are out of the top drawer.

The Batman relies more on Robert Pattinson’s traumatised Bruce Wayne, a man who is a walking open wound. He wasn’t a controversial choice like Keaton, who served up a welcome surprise even when faced with Nicholson’s scene-stealing. Keaton might still be the most interesting bat, with his ticks, his fondness for statues of killers, the Putin-style elongated table used on his first date with Vicki Vale. He gave the impression that he might have been just as unstable as his opponents.

Robert Pattinson’s version, if a little overplayed, might ultimately rival him if he’s allowed to develop the role and is given the scripts to do so. The makers of the new set of films seem bent upon mounting a challenge to Nolan’s trilogy. Their first outing holds its own.

But what next? The conclusion hints that the Joker may be back. Whether that’s a wise move given Ledger’s equally long shadow, and some would argue Phoenix’s too, remains to be seen. Jared Leto’s version, seen in the first Suicide Squad, wilted in it. The less said about that, the better.